


Amazing Grace

by Kerkerian



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: (Though SEALs don't get sick), Caring Steve, Circumstances, Developing Relationship, Deviates From Canon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Chicken Soup, Sick Danny, Sick Steve, Slow Burn, mcdanno, much fluff, mutual care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-28 06:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13265469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian/pseuds/Kerkerian
Summary: Danny and Steve have been taking their time realizing what's what. Apparently, other people are much quicker on the uptake. Grace, for example. And sometimes the circumstances suddenly are all in your favour, even though it might not seem like it at first... but then again, true romance is unstoppable, riiiiight?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Hawaii Five-0.

 

It was early evening when Steve entered Danny's apartment: “Anyone home?”

“Shsh!” Grace, who had been lying on the couch with her phone, jumped up so quickly she downright startled him.

“Whoa, Gracie, I didn't see you there.” Steve closed the door behind him: “What's up?”

“Hi, Uncle Steve. Danno's asleep,” she said in a low voice. “He wasn't feeling too well, but you know him- he didn't want to spoil our time together, so he tried to hide it and pretended to be fine. It took me two rounds of Phase 10 to convince him that it's okay for him to lie down.” She gave Steve a crooked smile, but he wasn't fooled- he could see that she was concerned. Ever since Danny had donated half his liver to save Steve's life, she was worried about him whenever he so much as sneezed.

“And where's Charlie?” Steve asked.

“At Mom's with a fever,” Grace said, shrugging. “I think maybe he passed his infection on to Danno.”

“Well, it's been a hell of a week,” Steve said, trying to lift her spirits. “Your dad's probably just tired.”

Grace looked at him so sceptically that he felt reminded of his mother- sceptic looks were one of her specialties, after all. He sometimes forgot that Grace wasn't eight anymore.

“All right,” he therefore conceded. “I'll go check on him, okay?”

“'kay. Don't wake him up, though.”

 

The door to Danny's bedroom was slightly ajar. Steve cautiously pushed it open further and tiptoed over to the bed; his partner was fast asleep, lying curled up on his side, blanket drawn up to his nose. Even though the curtains were closed and the room was bathed in twilight, Steve could see that Danny was rather pale, and what was visible of his expression was tense. Gingerly, Steve touched Danny's temple; it was warm, but not overly so. Unaware that he was frowning, Steve lingered for a moment, his fingers never losing the contact with Danny's skin but caressing gently. He wanted to stay, to just lie down next to Danny and be close to him, but of course, that wasn't possible with Grace in the next room. This thing which had been so painfully slowly developing between Danny and him was finally beginning to pick up speed, but Grace didn't know that.

As of yet, Danny and he had spent one night together two weeks ago, albeit entirely innocently: a night which had been the end of a long and harrowing day which in turn had been the end of a long and harrowing case. They had fallen into Steve's bed after Steve had taken Danny home with him, barely having enough energy left to eat something first, or to undress. But they had been equally shaken by the case and sought each other's company, each other's solid presense and possibly warmth. It hadn't been a surprise and it didn't feel unexpected but rather like a logical consequence of everything that had been between them over the years. They hadn't even talked about it, had just climbed up the stairs together as if they had always done so, as if they both lived in the house and had shared a bedroom for a long time. Steve remembered how he had taken Danny's hand somewhere between the second and fourth step and hadn't let go of it anymore. They kicked off their shoes and simply sank onto the mattress, scooting closer together until they could wrap their arms around each other.

It was awesome and soothing, and if Steve hadn't been so exhausted, his rapidly beating heart and the sensation of Danny's scent all around him would have kept him awake. As it was, he pressed his nose against Danny's forehead and closed his eyes, relieved to have him there, to be able to forget everything else because of his partner's presence, and fell asleep.

On the following morning, they had woken up in pretty much the same position, limbs entangled, and both had smiled upon waking up and realizing what was happening.

“Steve,” Danny had murmured, his voice rough from sleep, and the one word made Steve shiver delicately. They had kissed, sleepily, unhurriedly, and it had also been unexpected but glorious. With no small amount of regret they eventually got up because they had to get to work. They were busy with the aftermath of their case which meant a lot of paperwork, therefore they were stuck at their desks and didn't talk much all morning. Steve, who felt happy and annoyingly jittery, wasn't sure how they were going to proceed, but later that day, Danny had come into his office, handed Steve a mug of coffee and looked at him with an air of anticipation. Only someone who knew him well, which Steve did, would have noticed that he was nervous as well. So Steve smiled at Danny, reaching out with one hand. Hesitantly, Danny took it: “I just, er...” he began, but obviously, he didn't know what to say for once.

“Me too,” Steve replied, squeezing Danny's hand, which had to be enough for the moment, had to substitute for the hug and the kiss he'd actually have preferred. Since everyone was able to look into his office because of the glass walls however, this conveying of his feelings through a simple touch had to suffice. And it did, from the way Danny's face softened and his eyes all but twinkled at Steve, his relief and affection almost palpable.

Later, Steve had sent him a text: “I'd like to take you out for dinner, on a proper date. Something nice.”

Danny's reply had been short and sweet and typical: “Sounds good. Miss you. No pineapples, please!”

From that day, they had continued as slowly as they had built up to it. They had gone on that initial date and two more, because Steve thought he should do this properly and even though they had been through thick and thin together and even shared a vital organ, it was a whole different pair of shoes to take one's relationship to the next level. He wanted to show Danny that he didn't take him for granted, but most importantly, there were still a lot of things they didn't yet know about each other. There had been some more kissing and possibly even more casual touching during the days than before, but that was it.

But now, Steve wished he could simply crawl under the covers with Danny and snuggle up with him, make him feel better through his sheer presence. As it was, he straightened up with a small sigh and left the room as quietly as he had come.

 

Grace looked up from her phone when Steve sat down next to her: “How is he?”

“Still fast asleep. So what were your plans for tonight?”

“We didn't make any. It wasn't our scheduled weekend, but Mom thought it'd be best if I kept away from Charlie.”

“Okay, well, that's bad luck then.” Steve smiled at her: “So how about I spend the night? We can rent a movie and eat lots of popcorn.”

“Sounds good.” Grace visibly perked up at the notion that Steve wasn't going to leave her alone with her ill father.

Steve nodded: “You know what- I'll go and buy a few things, then I'll make some chicken soup. We can't only eat junk, after all, and my chicken soup is famous. Apart from having magical healing qualities.”

Grace grinned as Steve got up and had looked into the fridge to check which ingredients were in hand: “It's the cysteine, Uncle Steve, that's an Amino acid.”

Steve shook his head: “Nope, I'm telling you it's magic.” With a wink, he was out of the door to go get the groceries.

 

Danny only woke up two hours later. He was disoriented for a moment, wondering where and when and why, but then he remembered that his fourteen-year-old daughter had literally sent him to bed earlier because he didn't feel well. Sleeping apparently hadn't helped, though, since his head still hurt and his body felt alien to him, heavy and aching. He slowly sat up anyway; he had to see how Grace was doing. It'd probably be best if she went back to Rachel's. The thought was disappointing despite the fact that she was in full teenager mode by now and often made him feel like an old geezer whose grasp on the workings of the modern world was beyond poorly. Still. Life was too empty whenever his kids weren't there, no matter how often Grace impatiently rolled her eyes at him.

With measured movements, Danny got out of bed and to his feet. He paused in the small hallway; there was an unexpected, pleasant smell in the air, and he could hear Grace laugh.

To his surprise, it was Steve who was making Gracie laugh. Both of them were wearing aprons, and Steve was stirring something in a large pot.

“Hey Danno,” he now said, putting the spoon down and looking Danny over. The warmth in his eyes was enough to make Danny want to just sag into his arms and forget everything else.

“How are you feeling?” Grace now asked, bringing Danny back down to earth.

He managed a smile: “I've been better, Monkey,” he said truthfully, hearing himself how tired and hoarse his voice sounded. “Sorry for dropping out on you like this.”

Grace smiled sympathetically, a welcome exception to her usual current demeanour of bored indulgence: “It's okay. Uncle Steve's staying over, and we made chicken soup.”

“Magical chicken soup,” Steve added.

Grace rolled her eyes and grinned at her dad.

Danny felt himself fading rapidly: “If it's okay with you guys, I'll go and lie down again,” he muttered. “I just need something for my headache first.”

“I'll get the Advil for you,” Grace offered and went into the bathroom.

Steve looked after her with a smile, then his gaze returned to Danny: “Hey,” he said softly. “Sorry for barging in like this. I wasn't in the neighbourhood but I really wanted to see you.”

Something in Danny's stomach fluttered, and it had nothing to do with his current physical state. “Sorry to disappoint,” he muttered, attempting a grin.

Steve smiled at him: “Come on, I'll take you back to bed.”

Danny, whose knees admittedly did feel like jelly before, leaned into him as Steve took his arm and led him to the bedroom: “Somehow, this is not how I had imagined this,” he breathed, eliciting a brief chuckle from his partner. Quick as a flash, Steve pressed a kiss on Danny's cheek: “Neither did I.”

“But I'm glad you're here. Thank you for doing this,” Danny said as he sat down on the mattress.

Steve really didn't like how pallid he looked, but he tried not to show his concern: “No worries. You know-” He broke off, since Grace came in with the pills and a glass of water, which she handed her dad.

“You're the best, Monkey,” Danny said.

“How about some soup?” Steve suggested.

“No, thank you,” Danny replied, lying down again. “I appreciate your cooking for me, it smells fantastic. But I'm not hungry.” He rather felt a bit nauseous, which he didn't want to say.

“Maybe later,” Steve said, pulling the covers up around Danny. “We'll be in the next room if you need anything.”

Danny closed his eyes: “That's good,” he muttered. “Thanks.”

“Sleep well, Danno,” Grace said, and Steve squeezed his arm under the blanket before getting up: “Love you, Danno.”

 

It took some time before Steve and Grace agreed on which movie to watch; in the end, they settled for 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off'.

Halfway through the movie, Steve went to check on Danny and found that he had curled up under his blanket and was shivering rather violently.

“Danno?” Steve tried, only to be met with a groan.

Steve put a hand on Danny's shoulder and felt the violent tremors that were shaking his partner. He was running a rather high temperature by now, but he was freezing nevertheless. Steve spread an additional blanket over Danny, then he took out his phone and looked up the symptoms, feeling uncomfortably helpless.

Grace came in: “Uncle Steve?”

“Sorry,” he said, “we might have to take a break.”

Grace looked at the mound of blankets, frowning: “What is it?”

“Your dad's developed a fever but despite that he feels very cold right now,” Steve said.

“I'll be fine,” came Danny's brittle voice from underneath the covers.

“I had that, once,” Grace said, ignoring her father. “Mom made me take a hot bath, which made it better.”

Steve looks from her to Danny: “Yeah... I'm not sure he's up to that.”

Danny's head emerged: “I'm up f-for anything that's w-warm right now,” he claimed.

“Oh,” Steve said; it was the least he'd have expected. “Okay. I can run you a bath, if you like?”

A muffled grunt was the answer, which Steve took for a yes. He went into the bathroom and put in the stopper, then he started to fill the tub, checking the temperature with his wrist now and again (sometimes it came in handy to have a young niece). While he was waiting, he went through the bathroom cabinet and found a small bottle of Eucalyptus oil, of which he added some to the running water; it couldn't hurt, after all.

Danny was a little tottery because he couldn't stop trembling; wrapped in a blanket and steadied by Steve, he made his way over to the bathroom.

“Will you be okay or do you need my help?” Steve asked, smiling fondly.

“I'll manage,” Danny muttered, mindful of Grace. She'd probably find it strange if Steve stayed with Danny in the bathroom. With a shaky hand, he grabbed a fistful of Steve's shirt and held on to it for a moment: “Thanks, Babe.”

Steve closed the door behind him but lingered nearby; he was not exactly pacing, but Grace could tell that he was listening intently.

“He'll be fine,” he eventually said to no one in particular.

“Uncle Steve,” Grace said, which had him pause in his pacing: “Yes?”

“You're making me nervous.”

“Oh... oh. Sorry.” With one last glance at the bathroom door, Steve sat down on the couch again. For a moment, they were silent.

“Do you want to continue the movie?” Steve eventually asked.

“No, it's fine,” Grace replied. “We can wait until Dad's back in bed.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded, one ear very apparently still straining towards the bathroom.

Grace regarded him intently for a moment: “Uncle Steve,” she then said. “Can I say something?”

“Yeah.”

“It's okay if you want to go in with Danno.”

To his horror, Steve felt himself blushing. “He said he'd be okay on his own.”

“Well, _he_ may be, but you obviously aren't.”

Steve stared at Grace: when had that sweet little girl which made him draw her pictures of ships with her crayons turned into this still sweet but not-so- little-anymore young woman? Who looked at him with such an earnestness that he seriously had to wonder if she didn't know, on some level, what was really going on?

“I... what do you mean? I'm worried about Danno, staggering about like a newborn foal as he just was. What if he falls asleep in the tub and drowns?”

Grace only just managed not to roll her eyes at him: “I'm not stupid,” she said instead. “I think Danno's had a crush on you for a long time.”

Steve couldn't stop himself from smiling goofily because his stomach was doing happy little somersaults: “He did?”

Grace ignored him:“He's different when he likes someone. Seriously likes someone, I mean. He sings a lot, while he's cooking for example, and he doesn't worry so much.”

“But he worries about me all the time. Or so he says.”

“Yes, but he doesn't worry about all the other stuff as much.”

“Oh,” Steve said after a moment of deliberation. “He's a complicated guy, your dad.”

“Yeah. But he also cares so much about everyone. And I think he cares most about you, apart from Charlie and me.”

“How do you know?”

Grace smiled:“His eyes. He laughs with his whole face when you're around. Before that, his eyes were sad most of the time, though he thought I didn't see it.”

Steve looked at her, amazed by her keen perception: “Thank you for telling me.”

She shrugged: “I don't want him to get hurt. And I think the way he's feeling about you... it's mutual, isn't it?”

Steve felt almost relieved that their secret apparently wasn't one anymore. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “It is. You know that I already loved him, but we somehow always managed to not quite get there.” Much to their colleagues' amusement, probably; he was aware that they had had wagers going.

"But now you did."

"Yes. Finally. And we've come to a point where we're going to do something about it. I don't know if I should be the one to be telling you this, but since we're talking..." He broke off, smiling.

For a while, they were silent, mulling things over.

“I'm never going to hurt your dad,” Steve eventually said, seeking eye-contact again. “To tell you the truth, I've also had a huge crush on him for a long time.”

Grace's face lit up: “Really?”

Steve looked at her seriously: “Really. And now that we've made up our minds... it's amazing.”

Grace thought of Will; she knew what Steve meant. “I'm so happy for you both!" she said, positively beaming.

“You'd be okay with it?”

“Of course!”

“Wow.” Steve actually was lost for words. “I'll go check on him now,” he said at one point, all but jumping to his feet, and knocked on the bathroom door: “Danno? You okay?”

“'m okay,” Danny's voice was bleary.

“Are you getting warm?”

“Yeah... Can't you come in so I don't have to shout?”

Steve turned around to Grace and shrugged: “Seems it runs in the family.”

As she grinned and gave him the thumbs-up, he opened the door and peered around it: “All right, I'm coming in.”

 

The bathroom smelled pleasantly of Eucalyptus oil. Danny was submerged up to his chin; the awful shivering seemed to have stopped, which Steve was glad about.

He squatted down next to the tub and looked his partner over; Danny returned his gaze from under half-closed lids. “Steve,” he muttered. “I hate this.”

“The tub?”

“Being sick.”

“I know. I'd hate it too. How are you feeling?”

“Too hot.”

It figured that he'd feel uncomfortable now that the shivers were gone; he still had a fever, after all.

“Do you want to get out?”

“Yeah. I don't think I can, though.”

“I'll help you.”

“But Grace-”

“Grace is okay with it.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“We had a talk.”

Alarmed, Danny scrabbled to sit up. Steve took his hand to help him up, which was slow-going; then he wrapped Danny into the large towel he had put out earlier and steadied him as he climbed out of the tub. Steve did his best not to look because it seemed inappropriate under the given circumstances.

“What do you mean, you had a talk?” he demanded while Steve began to rub him dry, not even protesting. Either he was fine with it or he was really taken aback. Or maybe it was the fever, Steve told himself. He hoped it was the first.

“She's very perceptive,” he said. “She noticed that we've had a thing for each other for a long time, and she told me that it's okay.”

“That what's okay?”

“Everything. This. Us. She said she's happy for us.”

Danny's fever-bright eyes lit up even more: “My daughter,” he said, proudly, and that was it. No rant. Steve gently wrapped his arms around him, not caring that he got damp in the process, and kissed Danny's nose: “She's got a good heart. Like you.”

Danny leaned into him for a moment, and they both just enjoyed each other's closeness.

"Feels good," Danny muttered softly, and Steve's stomach was doing somersaults again.

 

When Danny was back in bed ten minutes later, Steve brought him a mug of soup: “Just drink a little bit of it, you need sustenance.”

Danny, who didn't feel as nauseous any more, managed to drink two thirds of it, then he gave the mug to Steve and slid down on the pillows. He was tired and the fever made him feel uncomfortably warm, too much heat pressing against his temples and making him feel sluggish. At least the headache had abated, for which he was grateful.

Steve caressed his cheek: “Try to sleep, okay?”

“Hm.” Danny closed his eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

 

As Steve disappeared in the kitchen to put away the mug, Grace went into her dad's bedroom. Cautiously, she sat on the edge of the mattress: “Danno?”

Groggily, Danny opened his eyes again: “Hey, Monkey.”

She gave him an uncertain smile: “You're not mad at me, are you?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I talked to Uncle Steve.”

“'m not mad at you.” He managed a small smile even though it was obvious that he could barely keep his eyes open. “'m glad you talked to him. Might've to stop calling him _Uncle_ though.” Even now, with a fever and all, Danno seemed happy.

“I love you,” Grace said softly. “And I'm seriously happy that you're happy.”

“Thanks, Monkey,” Danno's voice was small now. “Love you, too.” With that, his eyes closed. Grace waited until his breathing had evened out, then she silently left the room.

 

Steve was waiting for her on the couch: “Ready to continue?”

“Yeah.” Grace sat down next to him and after a moment of deliberation snuggled against his side.

Steve put his arm around her, much as he had done with her dad on that memorable belated Halloween years ago, and felt grateful and elated that she was welcoming him into her little family: “So," he said, unable to subdue a grin. "Danno's singing, huh?”

 

TBC

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you for giving kudos or leaving a comment for the first part, it's highly appreciated!  
> So it turned out that the story wasn't finished with me yet, therefore: enjoy...

 

Danny was fast asleep when Steve looked in on him later; his skin still felt far too warm to the touch, but Steve had always been one for sleeping off whatever ailments one might have, so he tucked Danny in warmly: probably best to sweat it out.

Once Grace had gone to bed, Steve made up a bed on the couch and lay down as well; because of the many things which were reeling around in his head, it took a long time for him to doze off. He woke up again what felt like two seconds later, for a moment unsure as to what had roused him, but then he heard it again. _Danny_. He got up and tapped over to Danny's bedroom, the door of which he had left slightly ajar, just in case.

“Danno?” he asked softly, and something about the answering groan did not bode well. Steve squinted into the darkness: “You awake?”

“Yes,” Danny's voice was hoarse and strained.

“Okay, I'll turn on the light.” Steve did so and found Danny on the floor; apparently, he had just thrown up. Just sleeping it off obviously hadn't worked.

“Jeez, Danno,” Steve muttered because Danny didn't seem to have the energy to get up again; he was half lying, half sitting slumped against the wall, and his face was white. He was also shivering a little, probably from the exertion.

Steve quickly knelt down next to him: “You with me?”

Danny looked as though he was going to keel over, but his eyes focused on Steve after a moment. “Steve,” he murmured. “Bathroom...”

“No problem, Love,” Steve muttered, trying to sound reassuring. Somehow, he managed to get Danny to his feet and to avoid stepping into the mess (which luckily had at least landed on a rug rather than on the wooden floor). He more carried than supported his partner the thankfully short way to the bathroom, where he eased him down on the edge of the tub and held on to him. It didn't take long until Danny began to retch again, just in time getting to the toilet with Steve's help. Once the bout was over, Steve handed him a flannel to wipe his face with and wrapped him in a towel to keep him warm.

“Sorry,” Danny croaked, but Steve rubbed soothing circles on his back: “No need to apologize, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?”

“Just trying out a few things.”

“Huh.” Danny didn't have the strength to discuss this further, otherwise he'd have strongly objected to being called _sweetheart,_ it was bad enough that his mom did so. He felt terrible enough as it was, but even though he'd have preferred not to be seen like this by anyone, he admittedly was glad to have Steve by his side, despite the icky factor. Steve was sitting next to him now; when did they relocate to the bathroom floor? Hadn't they been perching on the edge of the tub? Didn't matter now. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on Steve's firm chest which he was leaning against, the strong heartbeat. He hadn't felt this rotten for a long time; way to end his streak.

Steve noticed that Danny kept zoning out. He must be exhausted, and he still had a fever, after all. His skin felt clammy, and from time to time, he shivered violently for a moment; muscle tremors from the exertion of repeatedly throwing up with an almost empty stomach, Steve knew. Fortunately, the nausea seemed to be abating; when nothing had happened for half an hour and Danny's head became increasingly heavy against Steve's shoulder, he gently stroked Danny's cheek with his thumb: “You with me, buddy?”

“Hmm.”

“Think I can leave you alone for a minute?”

“Why?” Danny's voice was thin and sounded alarmed.

“Just going to dispose of the mess in the bedroom,” Steve said lightly.

Danny groaned: “'m so sorry.”

“It's no problem. I've got you, love.” Steve got to his feet: “I'll be quick.”

In the bathroom, he took the soiled rug and carried it outside; they could wash it later. Then he cleaned the floor with disinfectant; luckily, the window had already been open, so the smell wasn't too bad and would soon be gone.

When Steve returned to the bathroom, Danny was pretty much in the same position as he left him. Steve sat down next to him, one hand on Danny's shoulder. They waited a bit longer; since nothing happened, Steve roused Danny with a gentle hand on his arm after ten minutes: “Should we get you back to bed?”

“You may have to carry me,” Danny muttered. Steve kissed his temple: “I'll do my best. Come on.” He pulled Danny to his feet slowly; it took a real effort to get his legs under him, but they steadily made it to the bedroom where Steve eased Danny on the mattress and pulled up his pillows to lean against in an almost upright position in order to avoid vertigo. He helped Danny into a fresh t-shirt, then he went into the kitchen and got a glass of cold ginger tea which he thinned down with water.

Danny's eyelids were drooping when his partner returned. He refused to drink anything at first, but Steve insisted: “You need some liquid, Danno. This is a ginger infusion, it'll help with the nausea.”

Danny pulled all kinds of faces, but drank half the glass. “Better put a bucket next to the bed,” he muttered as he slid down the pillows a bit, closing his eyes again.

“Do you have one?”

“No.”

“Great. Maybe I'll find a large vase...”

“Not funny.” But Danny reached out for Steve with one hand, eyes still closed: “Thanks, babe. For everything. I know it's disgusting.”

Steve took Danny's hand, caressing it with his thumb: “Yeah, thing is though- you're still dazzling.”

Danny opened one eye and peered at Steve quizzically: “Even now?”

“Even now.” Steve smiled at him with so much affection that Danny immediately felt better about the whole situation.

“Come closer?” he asked.

Steve didn't hesitate; careful not to rock the mattress too much, he stretched out next to Danny, who shifted sideways a little so that his partner could lean against the pillows. With ease, Danny nestled against Steve, who wrapped his arms around him and rested his cheek against the other's hair. Danny sighed, closing his eyes again: “This is nice.” In fact, it was absolutely amazing.

“Hmmm.” Steve closed his eyes as well, unable to stop smiling.

 

On the following morning, Grace was the first one up. She had woken around nine and had luxuriated in the knowledge that it was Sunday and she could stay in bed as long as she wanted to, especially now that Charlie wasn't around. For a while, she had texted back and forth with Will, but then she realized that it was way too quiet altogether. Uncle Steve rarely slept in as far as she knew; when she stayed at his house while her dad had crashed with him (wow, that was a looong time ago) he usually was the first one up and always annoyingly chipper even in the early hours on a school day.

Listening, Grace got up and left her room. The couch was empty but unmade. The bathroom door was open; it was empty as well. On tiptoe, she went to her dad's bedroom, the door of which was ajar, and peered inside. The bedside lamp was still on, and both her dad and Uncle Steve- or maybe not _uncle_ but simply _Steve_ \- were sound asleep, Steve's arms around Danno. Grace couldn't stop looking at them; despite the fact that it was new, it didn't seem strange or even unfamiliar. Danno was still looking peaky, but his features were relaxed, and Unc- _Steve_ looked every bit as protective of him as she knew he was. It was a peaceful picture, and she felt... grateful that Danno had finally found someone who appreciated him as much as he deserved.

She felt a little guilty at that- she knew she had often been snappish recently, treating the grown-ups around here with unjustified disdain at times. It wasn't that she wanted to do it, it just happened. But whereas her mom reacted sternly or, worse, skilfully ignored her daughter until she apologized, Danno never was angry for long, if he got angry at all. Most of the time, he tried to coax her to show some goodwill, not wanting to spend their limited time together quarrelling. Now that she thought about it, the guilt Grace was feeling only increased as she looked at the tableau on the bed. She sometimes forgot how vulnerable her dad could be, how he would do anything for her and Charlie. He'd probably object to that- it was a child's prerogative to take its parents for granted, he'd say. Still. It wasn't right to take advantage of someone's love. Danno had always made her feel so loved and cherished, she felt downright mean right then. And Steve also made her feel loved, had obviously cared for her from very early on, which was a mutual thing; she had always trusted him. And even though he and Danno were always bickering, she knew that he'd treat Danno with the appropriate respect; she believed him when he had said that he was never going to hurt her dad. Well, as long as one didn't count their jobs in, she thought, grinning a little.

She drew back from the door when Steve moved, not wanting to intrude on their privacy, but it was okay. She was going to keep that mental image of the two, that she was sure of.

 

Steve woke up with a slight crick in his neck and a second's worth of confusion until he remembered what had happened. Was still happening. He withstood the urge to stretch his limbs for a moment and nosed Danny's forehead, which was still warm but not as badly as in the night. With no small amount of regret, Steve gingerly disentangled himself from his partner because he really needed to pee. Danny moved infinitesimally, blinking his eyes open and looking at Steve blearily. Steve caressed his cheek with his thumb: “Just going to the bathroom,” he said softly. “Be right back.”

The scent of fresh coffee then lured Steve into the kitchen, however, where he found Grace sitting at the island with a bowl of cereal.

“Good morning,” she said brightly. “Sleep well?”

Steve smiled: “Morning. You saw that the couch was empty when you got up, right?”

“Yeah.” Her tone was a bit sheepish.

“Danno's had a bit of a rough night,” Steve said because he felt it was important to clarify the situation. “Threw up a lot. So I kept him company.”

Grace froze: “Is he okay?”

“I think so. I gave him the ginger tea I made earlier and he kept it down.”

Grace looked relieved at that. “You're clairvoyant,” she said.

“Nah- it's what my mum did when Mary or I were sick. Ginger's almost as magical as my chicken soup.” He winked.

Grace grinned. “I made coffee,” she then said. “If you'd like some.”

Steve rubbed his hands together: “Sounds good. I'll just go and check on Danno, be right back.”

 

Danny hadn't moved much since Steve had left the room, but he was blinking owlishly now and slowly began to sit up: “Hey.” His voice was hoarse and far from its usual strength. Steve sat down and smiled at him affectionately: “Hey. Rough night, huh.”

“Yeah.” Danny reached up and rubbed his eyes, his movements measured because his body was so sore.

“Still feeling nauseous?”

“No... just a bit queasy because my stomach's empty.”

“Do you wanna try if you can keep anything down?”

“I'd rather not.”

“At least drink something then.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea.”

Steve got up: “I'll get you something.”

“Thanks... Steve?”

Steve paused in the door: “Yeah?”

Danny's ears went a little pink: “I... I slept very well. You know, after...” He trailed off, but Steve understood. He smiled: “Me too, Danno.”

 

Much to Danny's chagrin, he didn't miraculously get better by Monday morning, despite his partner's valiant efforts; in fact, the fever just wouldn't abate and Danny kept throwing up what little he ingested. The headache came back and was joined by various aches throughout his body, which made it impossible to get any rest, since he just couldn't get comfortable.

On Tuesday morning, Steve took him to see a doctor because not even the over-the-counter-drugs they had at hand seemed to help any more.

 

While Doctor Kekoa reassured him that this hadn't anything to do with his liver (as Steve had been worried about that), he put him on sick leave for the rest of the week, and Danny, even though he hated being ill, didn't really have the energy to protest. Even after the medication had brought about some improvement, he didn't feel up to do more than sleep. Steve divided his days between work and looking in on him, and Grace called several times a day to hear how he was.

 

On Thursday evening, Danny woke up from a weight nestling into his side; for a few short, confused moments he thought it was Pete, his old dog, who used to be able to squeeze himself into even the tiniest spaces in order to cuddle. Danny smiled before he realised, with a pang, that Pete was long gone. He still missed him, and he still hated to even think about how Pete's life had ended, alone and probably scared in some quarantine box without anyone who loved him nearby. Danny blinked, unable to prevent his eyes from moistening up; he still missed his dog very much, and he felt guilty about not having put up more of a fight. But back then, everything had been such a mess, such a struggle...

The warm weight that turned out to be Steve moved and pulled him out of his thoughts by scooting even closer and attaching himself to Danny more tightly. He wrapped his arms around Steve: “You okay, babe?” Usually, Steve came in all chipper, but now he only groaned: “Headache.”

“Huh.” Danny kissed the top of Steve's head. “I hope I didn't pass the plague on to you.”

“Nah,” Steve muttered, “it's probably the paperwork. Besides, I don't get sick.”

“Oh, you don't? Ever?”

“I'm a SEAL!”

“Wha- so that makes you immune?”

“D'ya even have to ask?”

At least he was still able to make jokes. Maybe it really was only a headache.

“Okay, then,” Danny said. “What else can you do that you haven't yet told me about?”

“Classified.”

“As if! You just told me that you don't get sick! If you were able to _disclose_ something like that, you can as well tell me the rest!”

“Fine.” Steve lifted his head, squinted, decided that it was a bad idea, and burrowed back into the hollow of Danny's neck: “I can read minds.”

“Prove it. What am I thinking right now?”

“That I'm adorable.”

“Oh wow, you really can do it!” Danny grinned and felt that Steve was grinning as well.

“What else?”

“I can lift a car with my little finger. All by myself.”

“Huh. If that's true- and I honestly don't want to doubt you, but I still have to ask- why didn't you just lift the building right off of us then when we were trapped after that explosion?”

Steve sounded slightly long-suffering as he answered:“Because it wasn't a _car_.”

“Ah.” Danny laughed quietly. “Okay.”

Steve groaned again: “Now stop with the inquisition and rub my neck for a bit, will you?”

Danny grinned, pressing a kiss into Steve's hair: “Aye, commander.”

 

“I don't get sick,” Steve said defiantly an hour later after having thrown up twice. Danny, who was having all kinds of déjà-vues as he sat by his partner's side in the bathroom, just patted his shoulder: “I know, babe. I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault. Must be some supervirus.”

“Because it got you.”

“Right.”

Danny sighed.

Steve looked at him: “Should I go home? You're still sick yourself, after all.”

Danny's face softened: “We're in this together, Stevie. You looked after me and now I'll look after you.”

“I actually wasn't done looking after you. I was going to cook another soup.”

“So it's mutual care then.”

“'kay.” Steve looked relieved, but then he frowned: “Did you just call me _Stevie_?”

“Just trying out a few things.” And he managed to say that with a straight face.

 

Luckily for Steve, his stomach soon settled and he slept through the night without any more interruptions. Danny and he woke up in each other's arms, legs entangled; they had both been seeking the other's warmth, it seemed. Danny, who usually woke up lying on his back no matter if he was alone or with someone, was only just beginning to mend after all, and Steve was still in the early stages of the illness if the absence of colour in his complexion and his increasing temperature were anything to go by. Since the weekend was coming up, Danny didn't want to take any chances, therefore Jerry came to pick up a very recalcitrant Steve in order to take him to the doctor's on Friday morning, despite his repeated reassurances that he didn't need any medication and was going to be fine again much sooner than Danny, who after all hadn't even been up yet and was still recuperating and also had another soup coming.

Jerry exchanged a glance with Danny, who stood at the door wrapped in a blanket to see them off: “What is he talking about, Scully?”

“He's crazy, haven't you figured that out yet? Also, he's operating under the illusion that he's got all kinds of superpowers and never gets sick,” Danny explained.

“I do,” Steve said, coughing. “And I can cook! Danny's just jealous, is all.”

“Danny's going back to bed,” Danny grumbled. “Say hello to Doctor Kekoa for me.”

 

In the car, Jerry kept looking at his passenger out of the corner of his eye until Steve asked him what was bothering him.

“Nothing,” Jerry said too quickly for it to be true. “I was just wondering why you're staying at McGruff's place while you're both sick.”

Steve leaned his head back, looking out of the window and subdueing a smile: “It's classified, Jerry.”

Jerry gave him one of his patented 'I want to doubt that but am not entirely sure if I should'- looks: “O-kay?”

When McGarrett didn't respond to that, Jerry kept his eyes on the road; he'd find out the truth sooner or later anyway.

 

They spent most of the weekend in bed, albeit not like either of them would have imagined that to go down. Despite the medication, Steve was feverish well into Saturday, and his cough seemed to get worse during the night. Groggily, Danny had gotten up and made him tea with honey, which had always helped Grace and also seemed to work for Steve.

On Sunday morning, Danny let Steve catch up on his sleep and relocated to the couch after taking a shower. He knew he should try to get up a bit more by now, get his strength back, but his legs still felt like jelly whenever he moved around too much. On the previous evening, he had had to sit down for a moment after two trips to the kitchen.

“I feel like an old man,” he complained to Kono on the phone when she rang to hear how things were going.

Kono laughed: “It'll pass, just be patient.”

“Oh, the innocence of youth.”

“Call if you need anything, okay?”

“Mahalo. Will do.”

For the time being, they were well stocked; fortunately, Steve had taken care of that before the infection had caught up with him.

Danny leaned back and opened his book; at least Charlie was doing so much better that he was already up and about again, according to Grace. He couldn't wait to see his kids...

He had just closed his eyes for maybe two seconds when he felt the couch dip and Steve's warm body against his own a moment later. He opened his eyes: “Hey.”

Steve nudged Danny's arm until he lifted it and put it around his partner's back: “I can't seem to be without you,” he muttered, sighing contentedly and burrowing further into the other.

“Yeah,” Danny shifted a bit. “Squishing valuable things in the process.”

“Oh?”

“Not going to comment on that.”

“Hm.” Steve tightened his hold on Danny, who rested his cheek against Steve's hair.

“However,” Danny said softly, “I'm actually happy you woke up. I missed you. Can't seem to get enough of you either.”

Steve pressed a kiss on Danny's shirt. “You know, this still isn't exactly how I planned our fourth through eighth date,” he then muttered.

“You already planned all of them?” Danny asked. “Aww!”

“Yeah. It involved a lot of wooing whilst doing something romantic.”

“ _Wooing_?”

“Yes, wooing. You got a problem with that?”

Danny pursed his lips contemplatively: “I think I might need _wooing_ explained to me.”

“I'd have gradually turned up my already incredible charm until you'd all but have melted into my arms.” Steve lifted his head and grinned at Danny.

“You big goof,” Danny said affectionately. “Instead, I melted into your arms all shivery and contagious. Sorry.”

“Oh, you know, it's actually kind of typical for us not to do it the normal way, don't you think?” Steve coughed. “It's also how we started, with a crash and a bang.”

“Yeah,” Danny couldn't but grin. “While I wouldn't necessarily have chosen the puking in each other's presence, I'm really glad that we didn't actually start _this_ with a bang, though.”

Steve rolled his eyes: “I knew you were gonna say that.”

Danny ran his hand through Steve's hair: “Too good to miss, babe.” He cleared his throat: “Still. This has been as... _pleasant_ as possible given the circumstances.”

Steve put his head on Danny's shoulder, snorting: “Yeah... if you knew what I had planned for our _sixth_ date...”

“Postponed isn't abandoned,” Danny replied, wisely. “You can still _woo_ me later.”

Smiling, Steve reached for Danny's hand, stroking his fingers with his thumb: “I will, Danno. I will.”

 

 

The End

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


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